


Hurts so good, but only when I move

by KinkMe



Series: Don't try to make sense of it, just go with the flow [3]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alive Hale Family, All previous tags apply, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Derek tends to obsess over stuff, High School, Just a little bit of romance, Luckily so does Stiles, M/M, Meddling Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-02
Updated: 2016-05-02
Packaged: 2018-06-05 22:14:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6725590
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KinkMe/pseuds/KinkMe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Derek courts Stiles, badly.  But it might actually be working.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hurts so good, but only when I move

**Author's Note:**

> So I recently realised that if I try to finish the actual barbecue scene, I might never write something in this series again. So instead I'm working around it. 
> 
> Don't tell me I fail at life, I know *_*

“Ugh, dude.” Stiles slumped onto the table in front of them limply, arms flung forward and his head rolling side to side a few times.  “Derek is drilling me. _To death._ ” 

There was a pregnant pause where Scott seemed to try and come up with a response.  Finally he settled on.

“Uh, _what_?”

Stiles rolled his head to the side again and attempted to give him half a stink eye. 

“Don’t be a dork.  I _meant_ he’s making me do exercise!”

_“Exercise?”_

Scott echoed, still seeming confused. 

“I have to say, Dude, if he’s drilling you _and_ making you do exercise.  You might be doing it wrong.”

“ _Scott!”_ Stiles finally moaned before slumping into an upright position.  He took a deep breath as if steeling himself for something terrible.

“So, you remember that barbecue?”

“Not really,” Scott interjected, “since you never actually _told_ me about it.”

Stiles flapped a hand impatiently as if that wasn’t important right now and forged ahead.

“Well, _anyway,_ it happened like this:”

_“So, Derek, you do any sport?”  Derek seemed to almost choke on his bite of food at the sheriff’s question.  Stiles continued shoveling some really amazing potato salad into his mouth as his pondered why that would be._

_“I play lacrosse, Sir.”_

_His answer made Sheriff grin a little. “Oh? You know Stiles loves lacrosse.  Although, we all wish it would love him a little more.” Stiles paused his orgasmic eating experience to yelp out an offended “Dad!” which his dad blithely ignored before carrying on.  “I recall now, first string.  Co-captain with Scott.”_

_Stiles, and Derek if the look on Derek’s face was any measure, severely doubted that the Sheriff had just ‘remembered’ that tidbit of information.  But he watched Derek grin mechanically and force out a, “Yes, that’s right, Sir.”_

_And then it came, the cause of Stiles’ current predicament._

_“Maybe you could give Stiles to pointers one day after practice, Der.”_

_Stiles and Derek whipped their heads back to Mrs Talia in unison.  And seriously, that had to be the first time that day that they agreed on anything.  Although Derek’s face was so horrified, that Stiles’ embarrassment shot up another ten notches.  The guy was really much easier to read once you figured out the eyebrow.  Not that that was helping now.   A sort of quiet had settled over the table.  Stiles cast around desperately for a new topic._

_“This potato salad is really awesome, Talia.”  He finally blurted out brightly, happily not having stuck his fork back in his mouth._

_Tension broke and Mrs Hale smiled back softly.  “I’m glad you like it, Stiles.”  And then, because she was of the belief that persistence was a virtue, she added, “Derek has the recipe, if you want it.”_

“So?” Scott asked.

“So what?”

“So did you get the recipe from him?”

“What?”  Stiles looked confused.  “No! This isn’t about the recipe!”

Scott took a deep breath and got a grip on his patience.  “Dude, just explain. One more time.”  He added hastily when it looked like Stiles was going to explode. 

“Derek showed up at my house,” Stiles started slowly, enunciating every word, “on Saturday _morning_ , in his running gear and made me go with him!  We ran five miles!”  He seemed to be gaining steam. 

“And then he showed up every morning since and he has this scowly look on his face and he doesn’t say a word, but yesterday we stopped at the field and he made me do crunches and burpees!”

Stiles was almost wailing now and flailing his arms.  A second later he settled down and crossed his arms. “You’re lazy,” he said in a terrible rendition of Derek’s voice, “you can’t rely on natural talent for everything.  It takes hard work to be fit.” 

Then he deflated and slumped back on the table. 

“He hates me.”  He said pathetically.  “This is revenge because he hates me.”  

Scott stared down at his best friend laying on the table and promptly shoved him off the bench.

“Dude, you’re being like a total dick right now.” He said to Stiles’ pinwheeling face. 

You’re acting like having an omega’s attention is awful! You know how long it took before Kira agreed to go on a date with me?!

I had to meet her parents and be chaperoned the first time!

Chaperoned, Stiles! On a date!”

Stiles got up off the ground and dusted himself off.  He had the grace to look a little sheepish as he planted himself back on the bench. 

“Okay, so I’m a dick. I’m a dick and Derek maybe doesn’t hate me.”  This though brightened him up considerably.  “Dude!  I think he likes me!” 

Scott rolled his eyes.  There Stiles went, bouncing back completely.

“Happy for you, Bro. Can I finish my lunch now?”

* * * *

Derek hooked his towel around his shoulders and waited for Stiles to finish doing his lap around the field.  He tipped his water bottle back and took a sip of cooling liquid as Stiles came huffing up to the finish line.

Initially, he had absolutely _dreaded_ the idea of being in close proximity to Stiles for any length of time.  After all, the barbecue disaster had proven pretty clearly that Derek could not be trusted to be civil.  Even to someone he marginally _liked._ But his mother and _looked_ at him and his sisters had teased – _lovingly_.  So he had finally sagged under the pressure. 

Surprisingly, though, it was not awful.  Well, it had been at first.  But after about a week Stiles had undergone a miraculous shift in attitude.  Sure he still chattered Derek’s ear off, even when out of breath and exhausted.  But he no longer bitched and whined and his presence was, Derek was loath to admit, very bearable.      

That didn’t mean that he did not have to resist the urge to grin as Stiles doubled over and took great gulping breaths.  Not because of Stiles’ pain - although that was amusing – no, if he was honest with himself, seeing the way that Stiles was _trying_ without his original whiny narration of _why_ exercise was a bad idea, made him just a little – a teeny tiny bit – content with the situation.    

Besides, a niggly part of his brain whispered, there was Stiles’ hot, _sweaty_ alpha smell.  All this exercise was almost worth it just for _that_. 

Derek almost choked on his tongue at the unexpected thought and he hurriedly took another sip of water as Stiles looked up at him and started straightening from his bend.

“You alright, Derek?”

Derek ignored the question and handed Stiles his water bottle absentmindedly. 

“We’ll do some crunches next.  Finish up.” 

He nodded to the bottle and Stiles quickly gulped down the rest of the water.  A second later Derek watched as Stiles lowered the bottle from his mouth before slowly turning it over in his hands.  Then his face broke out in a huge shit eating grin, the kind that made Derek want to slap himself.  

“Hey, you gave me your water bottle.”

His words were so filled with awe that Derek promptly forgot about slapping in favour of blushing like a furnace.  No one had ever spoken to him as if even such a little thing was precious.

“It’s just a water bottle.”  He finally grumped, unwillingly to let the moment suck him in.  If it did, Derek just _knew_ , that would be the end for him.  He’d toss it all at Stiles’ feet.  All of him, for a fucking teenage alpha who hadn’t even gone through his first rut.

Stiles seemed to catch on, always more perceptive than Derek was willing to give him credit.

“Ok, yeah sure.” 

He hadn’t lost the grin, but at least he wasn’t making any _are you gonna take care of me_ cracks.  Derek understood how hard that must have been for him.  If he’d learnt anything in the short while that he and Stiles had been acquainted, it was that Stiles had to really try not to put his foot in his mouth.  Like, _all_ the time.

“Anyway, I’ll just go fill this up for you.”

He aimed for the tap near the bleachers close to where they were standing, but Derek stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Not there. Over there.”

He grinned at Stiles and made sure that all his teeth were showing, because surely no one expected him to be _nice_.  Stiles looked at his face for a moment before following his pointing finger to the opposite end of the field.  To his credit he did nothing but groan softly before starting to jog in its direction.

“Sprinting!”

Derek reminded him from behind.

“And you better hope I don’t beat you.”     

  

**Author's Note:**

> Criticize me or you know, offer to beta. I'm easy like that.


End file.
